


My eye sees truly

by Zip001



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10077908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zip001/pseuds/Zip001
Summary: They all believe that behind his patch was just a hole where his eye was before it was pierced by the Mountain's dirk. But his phantom eye could see truly.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Famous_Blue_Raincoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Famous_Blue_Raincoat/gifts).



> Famous_Blue_Raincoat wanted to see Beric in more romantic situations with a woman preferably.

He was finally free.

When his Queen liberated him and the straggle of men who followed him aimlessly, his knees automatically buckled and he fell to the ground in supplication. Even without removing his patch, his eye saw her bright aura, even brighter than Thoros' glow, and felt its warmth wash over him. He remembered vividly her hand over his head, somehow severing his ties with the Red God, and her soft words. _You are free._

And he was. His mind was no longer numb, and he began to remember who he was. He felt. First, his wet and frozen toes as he marched to fight the white walkers for her, then the softness of his Queen's hands as she pulled him up from his knees when he returned, and then sadness when he saw her forced to play the games with Little Prick. When she saw him look at her questioningly, mutely asking if he could kill that rat now, she shook her head. It was only when she had almost all the pieces of the game, the fealty of the Vale lords, the adoration of her now hale cousin, did she personally stab that man in the heart. With a slight sadness in her voice, she later explained that pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered. But his Queen was neither. What blood she had on her hands were justified at least in his own mind.

He would follow her to the ends of the earth. Beric was not alone in this. She collected strong men and even stronger women who would gladly trade their lives for hers, as she would for them and her people. It was family and duty that ruled her decisions, with her ruefully admitting that her Father's honor oft was barely considered. His Queen was much too hard on herself. Her golden aura was tinged with red ire and black guilt and regret.

On his Queen's left was her trusted Sword, Brienne of Tarth. They were such a contrast. While the Queen was tall, her strong Sword towered over her and most men. He heard some of the hushed whispers about Beauty and the Beasts, how the lovely Queen was surrounded by scarred freaks. He could see that as he looked at the Queen's inner circle. Arya, the Queen's sibling, wore so many faces but always her eyes were the cold eyes of a killer, merciless and ruthless. Everyone scurried like mice whenever she entered but for the Queen and her Sword. The Hound was snarling even more than in Kingslanding, so paranoid about the safety of their Queen with his eyes wild with fear, and only the Queen's gentle touches and soft words heeling and healing him. She softly explained one time that he was broken, betrayed by family. Then there was the pathetic man with the golden hand, whose life was spared by the mercy of the Queen due to the supplications from her Sword. And then there was himself, her Hand, even more scarred and monstrous than all combined. He should have died. He was an abomination.

But he disagreed about the Sword. Beauty. She was Beauty, as or even more beautiful than his Queen. When he spoke with his Queen in private, he removed the patch, wanting to truly see her for sometimes she would try to hide, even from herself. It was during one of their consultations that the Sword interrupted, and he saw soft glowing aura, like that of babes, like the beautiful aura of little Princess Cat. Such kindness, such hope and such purity. In her, he did not see any darkness. Even when Lady Brienne looked at him without the patch, she did not flinch but looked curiously upon him. And he wanted her eyes to be on him, for her to truly see him.

Thereafter, while he still looked out for his Queen, looking out for danger and alerting the Hound to take care of them, his eyes were drawn to the soft blue eyes. He noticed her grace, the way she moved, the way she spoke, as gracious and kind as his Queen. Not even the attentions of the pathetic excuse of a lion nor the Wildling's leers marred her gracious composure although she seemed confused and mildly irritated by them. They all saw her as the Warrior and tried to fight for her hand. He saw her as the Maiden, gentleness, innocence and chastity embodied in a well-muscled body.

It was on one of their daily walks, the Queen walking by his side as her faithful Sword trailed behind them, to the godswood that he spotted the famed blue winter rose miraculously growing in the mostly frozen ground. It was beautiful, the blue matching the gentle eyes of not his Queen but the lady behind them.

His Queen leaned over to him and whispered conspiratorially, "So beautiful, eh? Why not pluck it and give it to your queen of love and beauty?" 

She muffled her giggles when he gasped in surprise, not only at the audacity of his Queen, that the little girl she once was emerged once again, but that she spoke truly, that he found Lady Brienne of Tarth not only beautiful but that he fell in love with her, his cold heart thawing in the cold Northern tundra. Yet it could never be. If she barely bat an eye at the Lannister or the Wildling, she would not see him - most averted the eyes when he entered the room, whispering abomination and making signs to ward off evil. Beric realized that he (along with the Hound and the Lannister) were merely endured because they love the Queen and she wanted them by her side.

He spent many days in the rebuilt library. His Queen would say that he was hiding and she would be correct. Beric could see their fears and hatred for him which were only muted by the love they held for their Queen. Her people thought that he was like the greenseers, that he could see the future, that he was a wight that would eat them and their babes. But while he rarely ate any food but for the bare sustenance and at the request of his Queen who mothered him so, he only saw the present and had only begun to barely remember the man he once was, the gallant knight that his Queen told him that she and her friend idolized. He did wonder if he was that man again would his lady see him. But alas it was too late.

Even before he saw her, Beric heard her, her loud steps, her armour creaking and her throat clearing. In the room, she shone. Her cropped hair so bright yellow. The light from the torches struck her well polished armour. And she was timidly smiling at him. It was her sweet smile that calmed him as he initially worried that something was amiss with his Queen. 

Bowing to him, she started, "Ser Beric, I did not mean to intrude your work."

Beric smiled awkwardly as he motioned her to take a seat next to him. He felt suddenly shy next to the lady about whom he was just fantasizing, daydreaming about them naked in the hot springs, him washing her strong muscled back as he kissed and nuzzled her neck. He blushed.

Wordlessly, he motioned her to begin.

"Our Queen says that she found such comfort in your words...." The lady looked down and stared at her hands. Beric could not help but stare at her long swan-like neck, seemingly so delicate atop her broad shoulders. 

"The Queen, is she well?" he asked after the awkward silence. 

At the mention of their beloved Queen, Brienne smiled widely. 

"Aye, she is with Clegane and the princess."

Beric smiled happily too as the Queen was with the two who made her the happiest. And he knew that both the Queen and her little one would be safe.

"I need comfort," she stopped blushing. Those were the words in his dream - perhaps the commonfolk were right that he could see the future.

"I never knew my mother. She died when I was after I barely passed my first name's day. I think of her but do not remember her. I want her to be proud of me." His lovely lady was babbling, losing her famed composure. Beric remembered the hard talk with Sansa tremulously asking about her mother and the rumors about his decision to not give up his life for hers. His Queen understood - that death, eternal rest, could be a blessing especially when Lady Catelyn suffered horrifically at the time of her killing - her facial scars were self-inflicted.

Lady Brienne was wringing her large, calloused hands. His hands barely covered them, stilling them.

"I died many times. There was darkness for me. Each time a sense of relief for it was time but of course, it was not. I did not see, no aura, did not hear, did not feel. There was nothing, nothingness." He did not tell her about how alone he felt - it would not help her.

"You did not see your deceased loved ones?"

"Nay," he replied. "Perhaps I was not deserving of such gifts. But I felt peace." It was more like relief actually, that finally it was time. He should have been dead.

"Your mother?" Beric prompted as he knew she had more to share.

"I heard she was lovely, kind and gentle lady, naught anything like me."

"I disagree," he exclaimed.

"What????"

"You are the kindest and gentlest lady I know. I know you plan to protest on the Queen's behalf but as a Queen, she cannot afford to be kind and gentle - she has to be just and firm. Lord Petyr-"

"He deserved that and ten times more for what he done to her and her family," she protested, always defending their Queen.

"'Tis justifiable and what she had to do but you would have ended it more quickly."

"That is being gentle and kind?"

"Aye. And you are lovely." He blushed as he blurted it out, what he saw and what his heart felt. 

"The Queen said that you do not know humor nor guile, that you would never tease me but always speak truthfully. But I do not believe your words." Her freckled face was scrunched in disbelief.

He needed to be explain but he did not want her to shy away from him. Sansa's circle for the most part accepted him begrudgingly, but even they were wary of him. But for Sansa and curious Brienne, they averted their eyes, not looking at him. He did not blame them nor the commonfolk. Beric had only told Sansa as he knew that she would understand - her aura was still so loving and accepting and brave.

"I could see from my missing eye, even through this eye patch. I see emotions - anger, joy, envy, guilt. But I see more than that. When I see our precious princess, I see pure goodness radiating from her. I see that in you. I see your strength. I see your bravery. And every day I witness your kindness." He touched her cheek reverently and was heartened that she did not shy away. When his finger lightly traced her cheekbone, he was amazed that he felt the softness of her skin and the warmth from her blush.

"My lady, do you see me?" he asked.

"I see you," she whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry - I tried really hard, many failed starts and aborted attempts. This is all I have *sigh*. I somehow viewed Beric like Frankenstein whom I always felt a certain level of pity.
> 
> I was inspired about these GRRM quotes from SoS:
> 
> _"Can I dwell on what I scarce remember? I held a castle on the Marches once, and there was a woman I was pledged to marry, but I could not find that castle today, nor tell you the color of that woman's hair. Who knighted me, old friend? What were my favorite foods? It all fades. Sometimes I think I was born on the bloody grass in that grove of ash, with the taste of fire in my mouth and a hole in my chest. Are you my mother, Thoros?"_
> 
> _"Fire consumes. It consumes, and when it is done there is nothing left. Nothing."_


End file.
